Part 7 (1/2)
Becky wrinkled her nose. ”Is that what I smell?”
Tony giggled.
I narrowed my eyes at him. ”One word, Tony. Just one word, and it's lights out for you. I'm serious.”
He held up his hands in surrender and didn't say anything. He just kept laughing, occasionally biting his bottom lip to keep from doing it out loud.
I shook my head in defeat. There is no way I'm getting out of this clean. Everyone's going to know I farted my way to freedom. Life was so unfair sometimes.
I left Tony to take care of demon-Spike and went with Becky into the compound towards my room.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
BECKY FOLLOWED ME ALL THE way to my room, chattering away, not even caring if I was answering or not. If it took longer than two seconds for me to say anything, she just changed the subject and started talking again about something else.
”Beck?” I asked, as we reached my door.
”Yeah?”
”You realize I heard absolutely nothing you said the entire way here, right?”
”Yeah, I was getting that feeling. But that's okay. Sometimes I just need to hear myself talking to relax.”
”Most people relax with silence,” I said, smiling at her nuttiness.
”Some people are not as interesting as water sprites. We love sounds. Quiet is boring.”
”Well, no one could ever accuse you of being boring, then,” I said, pulling Blackie and its sheath off my leg and waist as I walked through the foyer and into the sitting room.
”Jayne?” came a voice from the garden area.
I stopped walking, frozen with guilt. Abby. ”Uh, yeah?”
”Could you come over here for a minute?”
I cringed. ”Can it wait? I have to shower and get to a council meeting.”
”It will only take a second,” she said. She was hovering over the top of her bedroom, above the plants that sat on a round table where I'd put their furniture.
I sighed heavily, turning to walk in her direction. It was time to face the music. I felt like I was walking to the hangman's gallery.
”Are you in trouble?” whispered Becky, walking along next to me.
”Probably,” I whispered back.
I reached the table and peered down at whatever had Abby's attention. ”What's up?”
She pointed to her bed. There was a big lump under the covers.
”What's that?” I asked, confused. ”w.i.l.l.y?”
”No. That's my husband.”
”Is that Tim? What's he doing?” asked Becky, sounding just as lost as I felt.
”I'm not certain,” said Abby, ”but I think he might be having a nervous breakdown.”
I rolled my eyes. ”Oh, for s.h.i.+t's sake, Tim, get out of there.” I reached down and grabbed the edge of the covers, ignoring Abby's protests. I pulled the blanket back and screamed at what I saw.
”I tried to warn you,” said Abby, not sounding at all apologetic.
”My eyes!” I yelled, dropping the blanket and backing up a step. ”Oh, my eyes! They're burning!”
”Jayne, that is just so, so wrong,” said Becky standing next to me. She was staring at the far wall now. ”The poor guy's naked.”
”I'm not a man! I'm a pixie!” yelled Tim, about two octaves higher than normal.
I peeked between the fingers that I'd pressed to my face. ”Oh, good. You're decent now.” He'd wrapped the blanket around himself. ”Get your clothes on, pixieman, we have a council meeting to go to.”
”I'm not invited,” he said, scowling as he threw himself back down on the bed in a face-plant. ”There's no point,” he said into the covers. ”I'm just going to stay here for the rest of the week. Maybe for the month, I haven't decided yet.”
Abby sighed. ”He scared w.i.l.l.y. I have to go find him out in the garden.”
”What'd he do?” I asked.
”He flew around yelling about his hair and something he called gigantor b.o.o.bs and all manner of things. I take it your attempts at sending the demons back to the Underworld didn't go as well as you'd planned.”
”Um, no. Not exactly. We took a little detour into the Underworld and the Gray.”
Abby just shook her head, giving me a disapproving look before flying away.
”She looks super upset,” said Becky.
”Yeah, she does.”
”Like, at you.”
”Yeah, I got that, Becky. Thanks,” I said, frowning at her.
”Do you think she's going to move out?”
”I hope not,” I said quietly. And it was true. If Tim weren't there to hara.s.s me every day and remind me about what I should be doing and caring about, I didn't know what I'd do.
”Come on, Tim. I'm serious. No more cutting pixies out of the equation. We're a team. You're going to the meeting; I don't care what they say.”
He peeked his head out of the blanket, his hair poking out all over the place. ”Do you mean it?”